


It is a good day

by DiezSimmons



Series: Newsies cause thunderstorms [2]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Ballet, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans Racetrack Higgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 13:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16450790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiezSimmons/pseuds/DiezSimmons
Summary: It all began as a good day... until showertime. AlbertxRace. TransRace deal with it.This story belongs to my Newsies series





	It is a good day

It was once again a rainy day in Manhattan, New York, this fall had been extremely rainy and Race was glad that he and Albert lived on the third floor of the apartment building as the ground floor had already flooded twice and once the water had come dangerously close to the first floor. Race had been slaving in the studios all day long, his feet ached and so did his legs, the new premier date was rapidly approaching but not everything was perfect yet. Today he fell of a table during a spin, something that kept happening so Race against the orders of Jacob Pulitzer, his trainer, danced the same number on the ground, he did it perfect.

Now he was finally on his way home, to the studio that he and Albert had been living in for the last year, it was closer to the theater and gym, it wasn’t in a too busy street which saved Race a lot of headaches as he was a very light sleeper that would be woken up by sirens from a police car while Albert would have slept through the apocalipse with no problem. The studio was relatively big for a NY apartment and it had big windows that had long midnight blue drapes to give the boys a warm feeling when it was dark out. The floor was a royal mahogany colour that basically screamed calmness. The kitchen had dark marble table tops and dark, nearly black, cupboards. The bedroom had the same drapes as in the living room and the bed was a mix between gray and the same blue from the drapes. The bathroom had some midnight blue accents and gray mixed in with a general white theme. Race still fell in love with the studio every time he entered his own home even though they had been living there for more than six months. 

By the time he got his head out of his daydreaming he had arrived at the apartment building, as he entered he emptied their letterbox before greeting the lobbyist, Paul, and sprinting up the stairs to the third floor. He used his key to open the door and he stepped into the warm apartment. Albert was already home and was busy with cooking dinner in the kitchen. Race dropped his bag next to the door, hung his coat on his hook, dropped his keys into the bowl where they were kept and kicked of his shoes before entering the kitchen. He walked up behind Albert and threw his arms around his waist and hugged him close.

“Hello beautiful, how was practise today.” Albert asks as he leans his head back into Race’s neck.

“It was good, pissed of Pulitzer though.” Race chuckles as he stole a gnocchi from the bowl Albert had put them in them in.

“Oh really, how so.” Albert turned around in his hold so he was facing his boyfriend.

“Well we were practising the tapping and I continuously fall from that stupid table so I danced the number on the ground and it went perfectly but Pulitzer said I couldn’t so he put me on time out. So I ate most of the sweets that were on the break table.” Race seemed rather proud of himself.

“Well I hope it didn’t ruin your appetite because I slaved over dinner.” Albert said as he shooed Race over to the already set table. Albert put the gnocchi on the table, then he put a pan with mushroom sauce on the table before sitting down himself. The next minutes it was quiet as the boys dug into the food that Albert had prepared. Race ate like a mad man before leaning back and finishing his glass of coke.

“Damn Al, that was amazing.” Race praised as he cleared the table. 

“Thanks sweetheart. I have to get going now. I’ll be back in an hour or two alright.” Albert had to go and teach his ballet class to the ‘impossible’ nine year olds. Race waved him of before closing the door and plopping down on the couch.

The two hours went by pretty quickly for Albert who raced home after his last student left the studio. He practically flew up the stairs and he opened the door with a speed he didn’t know he possessed. He dumped his bag on the floor and as he shrugged of his jacket he called out Race’s name as he wasn’t in the living room. He then heard the shower running so he tiptoed over to the door and slowly opened the door. What he saw nearly made him cry on the spot.

Race was sitting on the floor of the shower in the fogged up bathroom with his back to the door. He still had his binder on and was obviously crying as sobs wracked his thin body. Albert raced over, janked open the shower door, turned off the shower and engulfed Race into a hug. With one hand he blindly reached for a towel that when he found it wrapped tightly around Race’s body. He held the still crying close to him, not caring that his clothes got wet, as he slowly rose to his feet. Albert and Race slowly walked to their bedroom where Albert toweled Race of before sitting him on the bed and grabbing some nightclothes from their drawers. He slowly dressed his boyfriend, Race didn’t respond to any of it he just sat on the bed staring into nothing. At least he did until Albert dared to touch his soaked binder.

“NO!” Race exclaimed before crossing his arms tightly around his body as to protect the binder at all costs.

“Race, you have to let it go. It is hurting you and soaking wet. You can wear a sports bra y’know.” Race’s head shot up and he shook his head no furiously. “Race I can see the bruises god damn it, we need to take it off. You aren’t less beautiful Racer, you know it is hurting you. Please let me take it off.” Albert took the hands of the trembling boy he loved so much and slowly unwrapped them from his body, he then in one swift motion pulled the binder up over Race’s head and quickly replacing it with a sports bra. He then put Race in a hoodie of his own that was to big even for him so nothing was even remotely visible. He crawled up the bed, taking Race with him, and got under the blankets. Albert held his boyfriend close as Race stopped crying and snuggled back into his body.

“Racer do you want to tell me what happened today.” Albert whispered as he ran his hands through Race’s hair. “I know you don’t like it sweetheart but it is important, you know that.” Race whined and was silent for a while before he asked Albert something.

“Albert, I am not a boy am I.” His voice was quiet and sounded broken.

“Race you are not only a boy… You are the king of New York. After the show you are getting your top surgery and within the year you have your bottom surgery. I just want you to be happy Racer. I know seeing your chest not flat isn’t flat but in just two months that will be gone and you’ll have a flat chest forever but the surgeon can’t operate if you hurt yourself. If you ever need help just come and find me or Jack, Crutchie or Davey. Hell even Romeo can make you feel better. You are not alone but you have to come and find us if you ever want a hug alright?” He felt Race nod into his chest, his shirt getting wet from the tears that Albert and Race were shedding. Albert kept running his hands through Race’s hair as the boy he loved so much slowly drifted off to sleep. Albert tried to stay awake a little longer but he soon drifted of to sleep too. 

That night thunder rolled gently over the city but neither boy woke up.


End file.
